


Último

by allhailthenerdmage



Series: The Mining Town Four [5]
Category: Everyman HYBRID
Genre: Corenthal Loves his kids, Everyone is Dead, Fairmount Kids - Freeform, Sickness, The Mining Town Four - Freeform, The kids are suffering and I feel bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 23:08:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14389029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allhailthenerdmage/pseuds/allhailthenerdmage
Summary: Vincent and Stephanie’s beds are as empty and cold as ever, but Evan’s has been empty for only days.





	Último

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [and you're shaken to your soul with an ache you can't erase](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14303181) by [rems](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rems/pseuds/rems). 



> REMS YOU FUCK YOU DID THIS TO ME  
> (Also dont listen to moon river while reading this. it hurts)

He lost Stephanie to a horrible cough, she fell into a violent asthma attack while playing and choked on the black substance that had bubbled out of her mouth. The others were inconsolable after that, Jeffrey rarely stopped crying and Evan just got angrier. He would often disappear into the forest, only to come back hours later with a strange grin on his face and his clothes soaked in what James hoped was animal blood. Vincent, though, just drew pictures of Stephanie and left them on her bed as an offering of some sort. Maryann would often find him praying in the middle of their room at the crack of dawn, seeming scared of  _ something _ but never telling them what. They never found out.

Vincent was next, coming down with what they thought was a stomach flu. He vomited and coughed often but the second week of the illness he began spitting up black, syrupy liquid. When Evan first saw it happen he cried, for the first time since they lost Stephanie, and ran from the house once more. Upon returning he wasn’t smiling and had no trace of blood on him, instead he just seemed angry and became fiercely protective of Vincent and Jeffrey. They often slept together and Evan was usually found watching the door while they slept, threatening any intruder with whatever sharp object he had managed to get his hands on. Finally Vincent passed, a blessing for him in all honesty, the poor boy had been suffering for so long. But the rest of the house was in ruins, Maryann spent most of her days alternating between crying and doing her best to console Jeffrey and Evan. While the pair never left each other's sight, they always had at least one point of contact as they walked around the house. 

Evan shows entirely new symptoms when it happens to him, the liquid seems to leave his lungs alone and he doesn’t vomit until the last few days. Instead his eyes had bled black, never seeming to stop. Jeffrey was nearly always sobbing by then and he refused to leave Evan’s side, even when they told him he could get sick too. Evan had tried his best to seem strong for his brother but the poor child never stopped whimpering as his eyes flooded with the horrible black substance. James sat at his bedside for the last days, trying to get Evan to eat in the vain hope that the boy would be able to overcome the sickness. Of course, it did nothing and Evan passed early in the morning while Jeffrey and James were still sleeping. He had awoken to Jeffrey’s wailing and Maryann shaking him, Evan’s tiny hand cold in his grip. 

Jeffrey wheezes as he sleeps, his tiny lungs nearly collapsing under the weight of his own rib cage. James sits as close to his bed as possible, watching over his son as his hands shake violently. The room is empty aside from them. Vincent and Stephanie’s beds are as empty and cold as ever, but Evan’s has been empty for only days. 

Maryann is out of the house, doing her best to find another doctor that can help little Jeffrey. Though James has a sinking suspicion that there is nothing that they can do for the poor child. His face is flushed and sweaty, though his body is shivering under his covers. James cannot stand the sight of his child suffering so close to him with no way of helping, but he is too terrified that something will happen to go anywhere . 

Suddenly, a tiny hand comes to rest on his shuddering wrist. James’ head shoots up to stare down at Jeffrey, who gives a weak smile before falling into a fit of coughing. He lifts the poor boy from his bed and settles him on his lap, gently stroking Jeffrey’s hair as he takes deep, shaking breaths in an attempt to force his lungs back into action. 

“Papa?” James hums, not trusting his voice. “Why is this happening to us? Did we do something wrong?”

“Oh, sweetheart. No, you haven't done anything wrong, i promise.” He sighs and wipes the boy’s face with the sleeve of his shirt. “I don’t know why this is happening.”

Jeffrey nods and buries his face in the crook of James’ neck. He can feel the boys tears as they cascade down his neck and has to bite his lips to hold back his own.

“Papa, I don't want to die.” And James shatters, he sobs and nods his head, wrapping his arms around the last of his children as tight as he can without hurting him. Jeffrey does the same, tiny arms becoming a vice grip around James’ neck.

“I know, my dear. I know.”

“I’m so scared, what happens when I die? Do I get to see Vinny and Ev and Stephie?”

“Of course, Jeffrey. They’re all waiting for you, they’ll be so happy to see you.” James says, voice cracking as he runs a shaking hand through Jeff’s curls. “You’ll all get to play forever and be happy.”

“Oh,” Jeffrey’s voice is soft, seeming to have calmed down slightly. “What will you and mama do? Will you come play too?”

“Sure, we’ll play soon my dear. Mama and I will come and we’ll all have a picnic like old times. Does that sound alright?”

He nods against James’ neck before coughing violently again. The sensation of the black liquid running down his back makes him want to scream. Jeffrey doesn’t stop coughing until his tiny body goes limp in James’ grip.

“No no no no,” He pulls away from Jeffrey, the boy’s arms falling from his neck with no resistance. “No, please. Not you too. Jeffrey, sweetheart come on!”

But the child is silent, eyes closed in what seems to be his only peaceful sleep in the last year. His skin is cool with sweat and something worse. The horrible liquid cakes the bottom half of Jeffrey’s face, a stark contrast of black against the pale, almost blue tone of his skin.

James doesn’t stop crying until Maryann comes home.  


End file.
